Kendra Kandlestar and the Door to Unger by Lee Edward Födi Page A

cracked it open with a heavy stamp of his foot.
    “Do you really think this is the right time to stop and snack?” Ratchet asked the wizard.
    “Humph,” Uncle Griffinskitch snorted. “You will see, Ringtail, how well magic works when one does work out the kinks.”
    With that, Uncle Griffinskitch picked a perfect half shell of the walnut from the ground and cleaned it out with his finger. Then he waved his staff over the shell and murmured an incantation. Almost immediately—and to everyone’s great surprise—the shell grew to an enormous size and sat wobbling at the edge of the dock.
    “My word!” Professor Bumblebean exclaimed, fussing with his glasses as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “What do we have here?”
    “That,” Uncle Griffinskitch said, “is our boat.”



EVEN THE MOST STEADFAST VESSEL is of little use without a way to steer it, and now Kendra and her companions realized a new problem: They were without oars for their boat.
    Thankfully, Jinx soon solved this problem, for near the dock there stood a row of large stone Fauns, and each figure held a long wooden pole. The wood had not rotted, even after all these years, and from these poles, Jinx was able to fashion a pair of crude oars.
    “They’re not the prettiest,” the tiny grasshopper declared, “but they’ll certainly do the job.”
    The small band of adventurers was soon on their way down the dark, underground river. The water was shallow and murky and had a slow current, so each passenger had to share in the duties of rowing the walnut boat. This they did dutifully, each of them thinking that the tunnel would soon come to an end and lead them to the ground above. But it did not. The river wound ever-forward into the darkness, hour after hour. Indeed, there seemed to be no end in sight.
    “I wonder if we’ll ever see light again,” Oki murmured, for he was already growing quite terrified of the darkness.
    “Not to fear, little one,” Professor Bumblebean said, rather cheerfully. “All roads come to an end.”
    The professor had finished his turn at the oars and now had his nose buried in one of the many books he had packed. Kendra wondered how he could read in the dim light cast by the single torch that they kept burning to guide their way, but the professor did not seem at all bothered. He loved to read and rarely found a reason that was good enough to inhibit his passion. Indeed, even though they were going on a long journey, Professor Bumblebean had found it fit to pack a great many books, parchments, maps, and other such things to study along the way. Kendra could hardly believe that the frail Een could carry such a load, but carry it, he did.
    “Who built the dock and the stairs leading up into the crypt?” Kendra asked the professor. “The steps were much too big for tiny Een feet.”
    “I do agree,” Professor Bumblebean said, quite pleased to address Kendra’s curiosity. “Why, it was the Fauns, of course, who constructed the works. This book that I am now reading, Myths and Legends of Flavius Faun , the Founder of Faun’s End , explains that Flavius came through the tunnel many hundreds of years ago with a small band of followers. Their journey came to an end in our tiny town—and hence the reason it is called Faun’s End. Afterwards, I suppose the ancient Eens found it only appropriate to bury Flavius above the tunnel.”
     

    “I wish they would have buried him above an open road, with sky over it,” Oki declared. “Then we wouldn’t be stuck under here, on this underground river.”
    “Why that hardly makes sufficient sense,” Professor Bumblebean declared. “One can hardly build a road over sky.”
    “I know it,” Oki said. “But I wish it anyway.”
    Their journey up the river continued on through the night and into the day (you will remember, they had begun their journey at midnight). The river sometimes twisted and turned, and sometimes it forked in different directions. Since